Right Now
by Carol And Nella
Summary: WARNING: ADULT CONTENT. Zenith is a plant based humanoid alien, from the planet Edenia. She has been trapped by a deliriously curious Poison Ivy, who yearns to study the mating habits of Zenith's species. Zenith is trapped in a green house with her former crime-fighting partner, Nightwing, who was dosed with an emotional response heightening elixir.


Zenith glared up at the monitor hinged up on the cinderblock wall where Poison Ivy gazed down at her with an evil that threatened to slice Zenith in two. Zenith's purple eyes raked across the 'green house nursery', trying to block out the quietly rambling murmurings of the plants that only she could hear, all around her in the glass and concrete room. "How could I help myself?" Ivy insisted, her voice jarbled by the static on the monitor. "You're a plant based _alien,_ you're an intelligent creature that evolved from what I've based my whole life obsessing over." Ivy's voice was thick with reverence, and she smiled as Zenith shifted from foot to foot, scowling indignantly, "You'll never get away with this!" Zenith promised, "Justice will win in the end, like it always would."  
Ivy scoffed, rolling her eyes, "You have twenty minutes to escape the room." She instructed, "If you fail, then i'll let you out manually, you have my word darling." Ivy smiled, a hint of evil melting into her expression, "You'll have to deal with a friend of yours though."

Zenith followed her gaze, turning to look behind her where a wooden pole held up a wall of thick, jungle foliage. Zenith's stomach flipped when the greenery rustled, and a figure stepped out from behind the wall, his piercing, ice blue eyes locked onto the floor. Stylishly black hair shined from too much gel in the gardener's grade flood lights above, and an achingly tight, black and blue spandex outfit clung sensuaously around every curve in the long, lean body as he strided closer, his muscles rippling beneath the costume. "Hey there." Nightwing mumbled, finally looking up. At first glance, he always looked like he had some kind of makeup on that was meant to look like one of the members from the rock band, Kiss, but with closer inspection, one would realise it was a kind of mask, of sorts. His finely chiseled face and strongly carved chin suited his broad shoulders, and long, flexible arms.

Usually, Nightwing would swagger around with his masculine chest puffed out, like he was God's gift to Earth, but he wasn't doing that. His eyes were raptured with a strange, distant look, and he kept breaking eye contact from Zenith, glancing down to look at his feet, or the front zipper of his outfit, on his neck. This was making chills of worry race up Zenith's back. Something was very, _very_ wrong. "What...?" Zenith turned questioningly toward the monitor, to find Ivy looking unpleasantly pleased. "I used a special Hormone Dust on him," She explained in a sultry voice, "It doesn't induce sexual need, like one would assume; that would be risky to his vital system." She gestured dismissively, "I used the pollen, flower sperm to be put bluntly, and the dried, fertilized carpels, lady reproductive flower parts, of a flower I cultivated here in my sanctuary, and after burning the mixture with a few extra ingredients..." Ivy searched for the right words, "c convinced him to inhale the dust."

Zenith ripped her gaze back to Nightwing, who swallowed hard on the nothing in his throat; Rising panic and uncertainty was bubbling in Zenith's chest, and she kept and eye on Nightwing while nodding for Ivy to continue. "And?"  
"It enhances emotional performance," She explained, "It intensifies the receptors in the brain with fast acting hormones, from the pregnant parts of the maternal plant, harboring the same feelings it had while undergoing fertilization from the male parts of the plant." Ivy murmured. "And it grows stronger with time; that brat down there should be going out of his mind right now with pure need."

"I'm not a brat," Nightwing defended himself calmly, glancing briefly at the monitor, "and I feel completely fine."  
Ivy laughed in disbelief, "Indeed; remember, twenty minutes, then your free."

"Why are you doing this?" Zenith demanded, "This makes no sense" Zenith's insides squirmed at the look of delight on Ivy's face, behind the monitor. "You are only one of you kind here on this miserable planet, my dear, gorgeous creature," She purred, "Twenty minutes should be plenty of time to make more, and besides," Ivy inspected her nails on the monitor, absent mindedly, "It would be interesting to see how your plant species reproduces."

Nightwing recoiled, looking disgusted, "You're sick," He seethed, "I would never do that."  
Zenith's heart was gripped in icy claws of dread, hardly listening to the conversation anymore at the prospect of what Ivy wanted to force herself and Nightwing to do; _Nightwing_ of all people. They never really had gotten along together in the past year or so that Zenith had been stranded on Earth, and frankly, Zenith had never even thought about maternity. Not here, on this planet, and not from her own, either, several billion light years far from here. It was ridiculous, she was an aspiring Hero of Gotham, in the middle of training with _Batman_ the all mighty crime fighter. A _relationship_ could jeopardize a whole mission, let alone _offspring._ She didn't even have the faintest idea how her body worked within that particular topic of discussion. Would her hair blossom? Would her hair wither and fall out? Would she wither and die herself? Would she give birth? Would she bare a seed? Would she bare _seeds?_ Zenith's eyes snapped back up to the monitor, but it was black and imageless, and Nightwing was just turning away from it, looking distracted.

"Are you okay?" Nightwing asked, frowning. Zenith stared at him, letting her dread wash away; they had work to do, they needed to escape, and all organic Viagra was not going to shaken her this easily. "I'm fine." She responded curtly, "Try and break the glass, we need to start escaping now." Zenith turned, looking around the chamber. It was huge, with a curved glass ceiling and main outer walls that were framed with green spray painted metal segments, and a concrete floor, with a five foot border of it all around it's perimiter. Wooden shelving housed tailing plants, and raised beds through out the chamber bore different tall trees, shrubs and tall flowers. The warm, humid air was thick with the heavy scents of various species of flowering plants, and the chamber buzzed with the fleeting, contented thoughts of the growing things around them. The only way in and out was the one that Ivy had deposited Zenith from, above, which was all fifteen feet up on the ceiling. Zenith assumed that Ivy had brought Nightwing here before herself, which would explain why he had been missing for a few weeks prior to this predicament.  
Zenith hissed a curse under her breath while scanning the area, trying to focus her gaze away from Nightwing; the half-wit was browsing noisily around a bed of hydrangea and lavender, shading some wild looking ferns. "She thinks of everything." Zenith muttered in frustration, while trailing down an aisle of roses and young sakura.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed with Zenith and Nightwing scrabbling around, turning over flower beds that were light enough to look under, and moving tables of young growing things aside, to find nothing beneath them. Walls were inspected thoughroghly, and Nightwing and Zenith threw several experimental punches at the glass walls that were in reach. Glass turned out to be a formidable foe, despite it's appearant inability to freaking _dodge._ "We're trapped." Zenith breathed, feeling panic rise again. 17 minutes up, three left.  
Nightwing was breathing harder with every passing second, as if he had run two marathons, and Zenith had to avert her gaze when she made eye contact, feeling tendrils of unease at the intensity in his colbot blue stare. 18 minutes.

Zenith was inside an aisle of two walls, where thickly growing carpets of trailing ivy and ferns were clinging to. A hedge twice her height was at the other end, and she looked down where soil had been added on top of the floor to provide a home for golfer-course grade grass. Zenith looked down thoughtfully, wondering if there might be a hatch beneath the rug of lawn grass, when burning hot hands seized her wrists from behind. A thrill of alarm coursed through Zenith as she twisted around and launched her knee into Nightwing's stomach, who grunted in frustration, unphased, "Adenia," He rasped huskily, using the first name Zenith never used, "Please, I need you, _right now."_  
Zenith squeaked in surprise as she was yanked forward, smashed against Nightwing's firm chest, enveloped in his warmth.

Tense, ridged seconds passed in the embrace, Zenith holding her breath as Nightwing molded his body to the curve of her own, his harsh heaving chest relaxing with every moment of contact. Zenith swallowed, scrunching up her eyes closed as Nightwing's hands tentatively stroked up and down her back. Feeling his throat constrict against her neck, Zenith opened an eye, sensing Nightwing's hands slide shyly down her side, and between their stomachs. "Richard," She hissed, kicking his knee; he seemed to take little notice of it though. "I can't say i'm sorry." He retorted, turning his head to inhale the scent of Zenith's hair. A quiet, colorful metaphor escaped his lips, and Zenith shivered at the light press of his palm further up her ribcage. "So help me," Zenith snapped under her breath, ducking her head away a few inches, "We only have ten seconds left,"

"That's exactly why I need to try," Nightwing countered, catching her gaze with his own, "I would never, you know, knock you up or anything," He shook his head, his words tumbling out, "But, honestly, I never thought I would, you know, I mean," His expression looked genuinely... torn, between conflicting emotions. Zenith felt a confounded, sniggling little worm of curiosity wiggle it's way into her brain, and she looked down. Wordlessly, Nightwing wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her as close their bodies would allow, and resumed exploring.

Three seconds left,  
Zenith held back the urge to shudder as a free, leather bound hand slipped beneath her clothes,  
two seconds,  
Zenith gasped, turning her head into Nightwing's neck as he palmed the material of her bra,  
one second,  
Zenith's heart pounded beneath Nightwing's hand, pressing her lips to his jaw line when he curiously curled his fingers underneath the last barrier.

What sounded like a bomb-alarm from World war 2 blared in the green house nursery, and Zeneth leapt away from Nightwing, her gaze scanning the chamber. The glass mechanisms of the chamber were retracting, letting the freezing cold, Gotham rain fall into the room, splashing on her rumpled clothes. "We're free," She said briskly, "lets get out of here, now," She ordered, storming out of and away from the hedge, and toward one of the outer walls. A gaping hole toward the outside world hung open like a dragon's maw, and she scaled the five foot concrete barrier, landing with a hard thud on her feet on the soggy ground below. Nightwing followed more slowly, looking like he lost the lottery or something, his expression resentful as he followed. "We'll arrest Ivy tomorrow," he decided, "I'll bring Batman next time."  
Zenith nodded, letting her scattered thoughts reassemble themselves as she walked side by side with her comrade. They were crime fighters, as far as anyone was concerned, that little fiasco, never ever happened.

They had work to do.


End file.
